As the IOU process was ongoing, the stayers were idly looking on. The reluctant stayers thickened their skins and sat amongst the group.
They now knew why the new boss asked them to stay and listen in the morning. It is as if he was expecting that they wouldn't be able to pay the cash advances.
What were they expecting anyway? The animation job was their best source of income aside from drawing gigs. The enticement of cash advances is what made Mr. Williams' recruitment of them to be quite successful.
Just as they were to continue idling and pondering about their situations, a young voice suddenly sounded out. "Uhm! Excuse me?"
They were quiet and contemplating in their chairs so the voice instantly attracted their attention.
It came from the quiet boy following around Mr. Creed.
Just like how the new British boss had noble bearings, the boy carried traces of it to add to his youthful and dashing charm while those dark pupils seems to be observing what he could from them.
"Is there anything we could help you with, little man?" A man among the stayers asked. The rest had already moved on from the fate of the leavers and had their curiosity focused on the box-carrying boy.
"When you were hired here by the animation studio did you have stations, classifications, or responsibilities that you were assigned to?" The boy finally put down the box on a table and set out to do his job.
"Well, kid. We didn't have formal stations but we decided amongst ourselves who would do the sketch and line works, others would be assigned to coloring, and others for compiling the finished products into a working motion picture." The man appropriately answered.
While a woman added by not forgetting fact that it was a child she was explaining to. "The motion picture is kinda like a flipbook if you've ever seen one. A lot of our pages are needed just to make Bugs Bunny eat a carrot or to make Speedy Gonzalez run."
"Hmm." The boy just hummed a bit and surprisingly said. "I can work with that."
"Work with what?" It was a man's turn to be curious but the boy only shrugged it off for later as he dictated his specifications.
"Can you arrange the work tables in a way that sketchers and people in charge of coloring could work in pairs? As for compilers, you can shift your responsibilities into the previous two classifications but keep your skills and inclinations in mind."
"Since there's 45 of you, obviously there'd be an odd one out but still stick to the sketcher and colorist classifications and we'll sort that lack of partnership for later."
The employees were surprised at the boy's soft commands, it was way too mature and structured to come from what looks to be a grade schooler.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Just as one of them was going to voice out their questions, the boy simply said while pointing to the busy Sullivan in leaver's group. "I'm that old man's grandson and he gave me the responsibility to tell that to you."
No one was stupid enough to try and clarify things with the new boss or offend the little kid that might as well be their future boss by virtue of nepotism.
-------
Everyone got to work as they moved tables and formed pairs. Even if they said that they were colorists or sketchers, they hadn't put that identity to use, so tentative pairs were formed as they were versatile enough due to their background in art.
The entire second floor was spacious, had many tables and chairs; and didn't really have walling and dividers, so organizing was somewhat of a breeze.
The rectangular tables that old Mr. Williams ordered were also meant for animation, so setting up a sketch half beside the coloring place was just a matter of ingenuity among these people.
Everyone didn't want to look like slackers so they were hard at work, even the reluctant stayers wanted to leave a good impression to cancel out their already bad one.
The entire second floor became much more organized than it had been. It helped that Sullivan was done with the IOUs and assisted with the planning.
It resembled an office room after everything was done with a bit of artsiness to it.
The lengthy sidewall became their front as all matter of boards and planning stuff was set up there.
The short side was where the big boss room was situated while the opposite side wall was where the materials were stuffed. All manner of special papers and coloring inks were stacked there.
The back became the stairs and everyone coming and going could see the state of things.
It wasn't the corporate office design but it was close to it with long tables spaced apart from the chemistry laboratory set up.
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In the front section with the blackboards and storyboards, a lone table was placed and everything oddly became a classroom scenario with a representative teacher's table.
The new boss and the kid were by the 'teacher's table' and the sketcher/colorist pairs were together as deskmates to await 'instructions' and the 'lessons'.
"Now that we're all organized and seated, let's formally begin, shall we?" Sullivan timely imitated a teacher's opening remarks which evoked knowing chuckles from the crowd.
"Welcome to Creed Comic Studios, formerly Troy-jan as you know, while Creed Comics are for legalities, shortening, and convenience." Sullivan went with the joke and abruptly turned serious with capitalists' quip to his employees. "I'm not here for wishy-washy speeches as I just want to say that if you do your jobs well, then you would be rewarded accordingly."
Whether it be the stayers or the reluctant stayers, they all nodded in understanding and seriousness. The organized and strategic arrangement of this place and the strategic commands to make it happen were enough to tell them that everything was the real deal.
Their childish bickering from before was now going to be snuffed out as management is going to be strict and lead them to a direction that they previously didn't have.
The recent renovation exercise also served as their wake-up call as this new management would now, fortunately, be involved and not as hands-off as the previous British owner had been.
Everyone's enthusiasm spiked as they didn't want to go back to the embarrassing situation they had been in in the past months.
They were somewhat motivated and looked to Mr. Sullivan with conviction. He might just be the perfect and seasoned businessman to lead them to their dreams.
"Well make sure to follow your orders, Mr. Creed!" Perhaps influenced by their collective enthusiasm, a man suddenly interjected with his empowered words as he looked at Sullivan.
"Sure... but I'm not the Creed you should directing that to." Sullivan reply was not what they imagined it to be.
"What do you mean, Mr. Creed?" The empassioned man was stumped. "Aren't you going to be different from Mr. Williams and guide us all the way through?"
Sullivan could only chuckle at their misunderstanding and was quite looking forward to their reactions when he breaks the news.